Moments later the monshaad Emperor materialised as a bleak yellow shade in the vamplin Lord’s quarters.
I wanted to give you time with the human girl, the Emperor Mindtalked.
‘Why? She is nothing but trouble. What it is you hope to achieve with that one I cannot know?’
Do not let her deceive you. She possesses powerful magic, the monshaad Emperor assured Lord Fiendrac. I am unable to enter her mind in any way. That is probably why she managed to remain unnoticed as a dragon when she first arrived here. However, I sense there is a way to possess her.
‘I will take no part in destroying this human. She has done my people no harm and I cannot think how you could use her.’ Lord Fiendrac would not admit his true feelings for her, with any.
If you could persuade her to Change into a monshaad Lord, I would then be able to manipulate her mind to sympathise with our cause. Who knows what we might achieve?
‘No Emperor,’ Lord Fiendrac was not going to be dictated to any more. ‘Even if you managed to use her like a puppet, you still could not pass through the Wall. What’s more, why should my people care anyway? We have no desire to go to the Lightlands. We cannot live in the brightness of these lands. I want no further part of this plan.’
The Emperor remained quiet, not wishing to show his superiority, just yet. For now, he was content to let this vamplin Lord believe he had a choice. Soon, yes, very soon, his people would be a part of his army whether this vamplin agreed or not. He was also aware that the Changeling could not become anything without a pure soul so could not become a monshaad. He tested Fiendrac’s loyalty and wished to confuse him of his real intentions.
Of course, you are quite right Lord Fiendrac. I rush with my plans and forget to include the wishes of my neighbours. We must still go ahead with creating the human vamplin. It is for the future for your race. Human blood is in the Lightlands in overwhelming quantities. With such a large supply your people will never run short of food again.Your race will farm the humans as you do the beetling.
‘No, you misread my thoughts Emperor. We are quite content with beetling blood. This has been our sustenance since ancient times. Why should I wish to alter the natural balance of things? I am no fool. My people are satisfied with the way things are.’
Nonsense. The Emperor boomed deeply into his thoughts. Your race will never grow or expand, where is your ambition Fiendrac? Whenever your population increases, the food supply runs out. The beetling can only produce so many in numbers. Already your people are killing their own hounds for food and in some cases, they are even killing each other. You cannot deny that these changes would not benefit your race. Morte-Bielz Mindtalked, but wished he had the ability to shout at this ignorant creature. Calming his thoughts, he continued with his demands.
Your people will not only benefit from the richness of human blood but they will inherit powers from the mages blood lineage. If I could somehow possess or manipulate the Changeling, I could send her back to the Lightlands to do our bidding. Imagine what chaos she could create in advance of our invasion.
‘No! This was not the plan that we discussed. We do not desire to murder our neighbours.’
Rebelling against the Emperor was not a wise move, Fiendrac knew, but he was compelled to do all he could to protect the human. He could not understand why he felt this way but only knew that he wanted the Changeling unharmed.
Can you be sure that all your people agree with you Lord Fiendrac?
‘If you think I do not know of my sister’s grumblings then you are a fool. Yes. I am aware that she has supporters but what you propose is a threat to my people, not a gift.’
We need human vamplins, this is the way forward for your race. Your people need to be ready for when the Wall is destroyed. Yes, your sister has insight of the future which you seem to be lacking.
‘I thought I had made myself clear on this.’ Fiendrac was not threatened by the Emperor’s insistence. ‘My people do not need to pass through the Wall. We have survived in the Darklands since the very existence of our race. The plan to rule all of Aarabassa is yours Emperor. We are in no need of such power.
Morte-Bielz did not stir. He had other plans brewing so could afford delays.
Fool that you are. I could crush your race in moments, Fiendrac. The Emperor felt he needed to remind the vamplin Lord of who was the most powerful. You, in return, can do no harm to mine. Just remember these words. I will always exist, but you will not.
Lord Fiendrac was all too aware how true these words were. He would have eradicated the monshaads long ago if only he knew how. How do you kill a creature without a body? He realised that he was alone again, the Emperor had vanished. He wondered if his sister was supporting the monshaads in this game of power. It was time to send out his spies. He must also protect the Changeling at all costs. The Emperor had been right about one thing, to unite with this special human would produce strong heirs.
The hunting season was going as planned. Hunters had captured many great white bears to farm for this seasonal feasting. Camps were well organised, as always. Yet still Lady Vatara grew restless.
The absence of her brother Lord Fiendrac was welcome, it gave her time to ponder on the Emperor’s invitation to join him and become the new vamplin leader.
The camp had grown large and as more vamplins arrived, outer posts were established. She waited, impatiently, for her sled of beetling shell to arrive. Part of the mundane duties given by her ‘leader’ brother was that she ‘meet and greet’ new arrivals. She was expecting some from the far reaches of one of the islands of Nberinch. They lived with different rules in the outer reaches and their male leader would probably be expecting her brother. She was unsure how they might receive a female. If she was to become overall leader then she needed to be putting herself forward, whether the male vamplins liked it or not. With the Emperor’s support, she would soon have all her people under her control.
She walked past a kashgee house, a structured ichale much larger than normal, with two floors. The inner walls and floors covered with hard beetling shells, at the doors heavy animal skins hung, to keep out the cold. In this house many males, very young and very old, were sewing bags made from animal intestine skins, to be used as storage for the precious blood supply taken from the white bears. The workers would work and sleep in these buildings until the season ended.
Whilst vamplin never hunt to kill for their food, if they do kill, it is not to eat flesh but to use the many parts of the creature for other purposes. The hide makes good for boots and outer clothing. The meat, left to freeze, is then used to feed the dumla beetlings, once the beetling farming season returns. Vamplins are native inhabitants of a cold harsh environment and have learned throughout history to utilise their surroundings to their best advantage.
Lady Vatara headed towards a group of small rounded ichales. The rounded ichales were not as tall as they were only used for stores. Here she hoped to find a guard who would speed up the delivery of her sled.
‘You there,’ she commanded of a male who stood motionless at the end of the row of supply ichales. He turned to see who called him in such a manner.
‘Lady Vatara, are you in need of assistance, I will organise a female to carry out your wishes?’ He dared to suggest, wondering what this lady must need of him, a male.
‘I wish you to go and see what is taking so long for my hounds to be fastened up to my sled. If I am to greet newcomers, then I must meet them straight away, not at the end of the Season.’
‘I cannot leave my post my Lady. As you say there are many newcomers and our supplies are in need of guarding.’
Her frustrations increased at his lack of respect for her command.
‘If you do not move from that spot I will make sure that you are pinned to it permanently. Now go and do as I bid and learn that when I give a command I expect it to be followed, immediately.’
‘Lady Vatara, I beg your forgiveness but what will your brother say if our supplies are taken by
the newcomers because we were too foolish not to guard them? Please Lady, beg one of the women to chase up your transport and allow me to continue in the duty set me by my Commander.’
‘What!’ Her fury was more overpowering than she could withhold. Her wrath would have been unbearable if it had not been for the timely arrival of one of her own Commanders.
‘Lady Vatara,’ he quelled the situation quickly. ‘I see you are displeased with my guard, is he not doing his guarding duty to your satisfaction?’
The guard once again stood motionless, as was expected whilst on duty.
‘No, he is not carrying out my wishes.’ She stamped her foot in fury.
The guard noted her reaction and hoped his Commander would rid him of such a burden. She may be sister to his great leader but she was only a female and behaved as such.
‘Please Lady, let me escort you to your sled which is now readied for your greeting of our new neighbours,’ the Commander remained calm, ignoring the tedious tantrums of this female.
Whilst she needed little coaxing and persuasion to go against her brother, he had little faith in her leadership qualities. He and his likeminded colleagues were relying on the Emperor to charm her into betraying her brother. The delay in readying her sled in the first instance was because the Emperor had just visited him, and together they had discussed a rebellion against Lord Fiendrac. In this view only the Emperor was capable of leading the vamplins into a future they had never dreamed of, the blood of humans still warm and fresh as it pumped from their dying bodies. Humans, unlike the traditional dumla beetle, could not withstand a Feeding, their hearts would simply stop. They are frail creatures not fit to be at the top of the food chain. This was the only way forward for his people, and by using Lady Vatara, he would create chaos for her brother so the all would rebel against him. It was just a matter of biding his time for his Emperor.
17 Joining Ceremony
Centaurs are renowned for their great speed and fortitude in battle. They showed remarkable resilience against the reptiles that attacked their lands in the Serpent Wars. Their ferocity, when angered, is immeasurable. Yet, these huge creatures of half human–half horse are gentle giants, and live at peace amongst the human Cherok tribes. They consent to no other than the Cheroks to ride upon their backs.
Leon rubbed at the densely hazed window in an attempt to see through and watch the movements outside. A couple of female centaurs were busy rounding up a herd of lively spirited horses. A jet black stallion led his mares through an open gate as he followed one of the centaurs into a paddock. The horses had no fear of the huge centaurs, indeed they respected the centaur as much as they did their human owners. This was a happy land with contentment amongst its inhabitants.
He felt relieved that his part of the quest was complete. Both the dwarf King and Chief Dallheim of the Cherok tribe, would shortly be setting off for the Lightlands Council in the city of Beldroth. This was the task he had been set.
He pondered upon how his brother Amos had fared at his quest. The thought occurred to him that his brother was now the King and wondered he if Amos was aware of this. Frizz whined in a lazy sleep and once again reminded Leon of Heather. How was she doing? Hers had been the hardest task of all. Was she in the Darklands yet? Soon he would follow her trail up the River Wharfdon. He desperately wanted to be close to her, even if he could not pass through the Wall to be by her side. Deeply meditating in his quiet and private contemplation, he was unexpectedly disturbed by a loud thumping noise outside his front door. He ignored it, hoping that whoever it was would just disappear. Another thud hammered again. By the measure of the heavy pounding, it suggested that a giant wished access into his lodgings. Frizz slept on without stirring, which was unusual for him. Leon decided to open the door and put an end to the disturbing commotion.
Peering through the opened doorway, he found himself confronted with Grettar, the female centaur who had strangely adopted him. That was why Frizz had not barked, he was all too aware of who approached and the two of them had bonded well. Leon greeted the centaur with a gentle hug around her neck.
‘Aah, such a grand visitor to be calling.’ Leon laughed heartily at the sight of a beautiful half human with long red curly locks and a stunning chestnut horse body, who stood stomping at his door step.
‘I would invite you in Grettar but I dare say you would not fit.’ She took no insult at such juvenile mockery.
‘Have you come to awaken me with your all your noise?’ Leon asked of the looming centaur.
‘We are travelling this moonwake my young Master.’ Already this female centaur was beginning to sound like all the other female creatures he had ever met in his short life, demanding and bossy. ‘You and your dog had better get moving because I will set off without you if you are not ready,’ she warned.
‘What would be the point in that my lovely Grettar?’ He smiled cheekily, eyes twinkling at her solemn stare. ‘You have no destination if I am not with you.’
‘I have whatever destination I choose to have, young human.’ Grettar would not be imposed upon by this little whip snap of a human boy.
‘If you can make Frizz move when he chooses not to, then I wish you luck,’ he directed her gaze to the inactive large ball of white fluff curled upon the bed.
‘I have to visit with Chief Dallheim before I leave so if you want to have a go in my absence, please feel free to waken him in any way that you see fit.’
He stepped out of his home laughing heartily at the situation he had left behind, an agitated female centaur and a very lazy dog, unwilling to stir for anything. How Grettar was going to get Frizz moving was not a problem he wished to know the answer to. He was confident that she would be successful, where he had failed.
Weaving his way along a dusty, dry dirt path scattered with grit and winding through rows of small houses, he passed through the central crossroads and headed towards the larger houses. He arrived at the Quarter where the Chief and his family resided. He planned to join them for Breaking of the Fast before he left.
Prince Phellip was to accompany him in his expedition to the mid-mountains of Ginnung, with a war party of Cheroks and centaurs. They would meet up with an army of dwarves along the way which had been organised by no less communication than pigeon post.
With such little contact from the dragons, and no ruling King residing in the Royal City of Beldroth, Leon was preparing himself for the worst. Heimarl the Head Mage would be in sole control for a while, but the people needed their Royal Family. Unless Amos had returned, turmoil would prevail in the Royal City. He had no time to return to Beldroth to assist Heimarl. Once the Lightlands Council united, all would be calm for a time. The people just needed reassurance that those in authority had a solution. This would suffice for a while.
Arriving at the Chief’s home, Leon entered to a noisy welcome as he strode into a large mass of merriment and laughter.
‘My son’s brother, I welcome you,’ Chief Dallheim exclaimed in a rowdy merry tone as he walked over to greet Leon. ‘All is in chaos this moonwake. My wives, they flutter around like chickens. My sons, they plot wars and my daughters, well, they have decided to make up new verses of battles and romances. Madness I tell you.’
He took Leon over to be seated amongst his sons. ‘Come, let us eat a hearty feast before we all begin our journeys.’
Leon had a good appetite and was easily tempted with the feast of eggs, fruits, hams, meaty ribs of sticky pork, cooked chickens, cheeses and sweet biscuits, all to be washed down with light wines. Why anyone would wish to partake in intoxicating beverages so early in the moonwake was more than Leon could understand. He could not decide if the dwarves or the Cheroks were the worst for hearty feasting. Both seemed to revel in any excuse to celebrate.
He seated himself on a fat plump green cushion on the floor and hungrily stared at the wonderful spread of rich foods set out on the low table before him. It seemed too early for such rich foods, though this did not appear to bother anyone else.
Perhaps he may not eat again this moonwake so this was a good enough reason to eat his fill now and start his journey on a full stomach.
Chief Dallheim looked at him with a greasy chin as he gnawed on a a chicken leg. ‘I am to meet with King Longbard on my journey to Beldroth,’ he informed Leon. ‘We will then travel together to your Royal City for the Lightlands Council.’
‘We don’t go into battle yet, Chief Dallheim,’ Leon reminded the leader who was keen to defend his lands. ‘Who knows, perhaps all this can be resolved with my two brothers returning home and my girl by my side. Maybe the world of Aarabassa will once again be balanced if we can find the right way to deal with this monshaad Emperor.’
‘Only the young are so hopeful Prince Leon. Your life has never been disturbed by war. I wish this could remain so for all our children but I fear this is not a situation that will improve.’
Chief Dallheim spoke for the first time with a serious tone to his usually jolly nature.
‘I hope deep in my heart that your brother is only a hostage but these creatures cannot be trusted with anything they say. My people are not easily fooled by the evil ones from the Darklands. They are greedy and want only to torment and destroy. We have long waited for this news, always knowing that it would eventually come.’
Chief Dallheim picked up a steaming pork rib and tore at the cooked meat with his teeth as if he were in a private battle shredding the spirits of his enemy.
‘Come, young Prince,’ Chief Dallheim spoke loudly whilst chewing on his meat. ‘Eat. All is prepared for your travels. All you need do now is build up your strength. We do not like to go on long journeys without saying farewell to our people. You honour us with attending our Farewell Feast. It is at this feast that my eldest son and heir wishes to perform The Joining Ceremony. Sometimes we join together in friendship and other times to marry a partner, a pretty girl. But, you are not so pretty, eh? This ceremony is to unite our families, to join you both into friendship and brotherhood. Phellip, come and sit by my side. Let’s begin the ceremony.’
Blood Bride (Aarabassa World) Page 9
